Page 68 of Hellbound

Outside Hearth, the market was bustling. Ksenia could smell fresh-baked loaves of bread and sharp spices, the tang drifting on dewy air. Carts rattled by, bumping over the cobbles. She could feel several pairs of eyes on her, tucked between stalls, trained on her rucksack. Ksenia moved quickly, toward the main road, praying that Varka had sent a carriage. She spotted the lacquered vehicle on the edge of the trade roads, the black stallions stamping their hooves idly. She waved down the driver and told him to make haste back to the manor.

The road was bumpy, but she’d rather have a sore backside than actual knives buried in it.

Clouds had set in by the time the carriage halted its neck-breaking pace at the manor. Without any more wasted time, she sequestered herself within her quarters and retrieved the package. Turning it over in her hands, it appeared nothing special. But once she unwrapped the crude linen and twine, it revealed a small book on anti-venoms.

Ksenia frowned, thumbing through the pages quickly, looking for anything unusual—a dog-eared page, a highlighted word, a tear—but she was disappointed to find nothing. She tossed the book against the headboard and released a beleaguered sigh.

The hallucinations had become increasingly worse as her week was almost at an end. When she stared at the wallpaper for too long, the edges curled and peeled away, revealing rotted wood and moldy stone beneath. They returned to normal when she looked back, but the stench of it remained, putrid and damp. And she could still hear the insects crawling in the rotted beams, their little legs tapping on the crumbling wood.

She’d stopped trusting her eyes.

She retreated to the bathroom and drew a bath, intent on dunking her head beneath the bathwater and locating that sacred, clear space once more. She sank deep into the bottom and watched as the clear waters turned blush, rosy, sanguine red, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She broke the surface as the water turned blood-red, swirling thick and viscous. The steam rising from it smelled coppery like an open vein, coating her tongue as she gasped for air.

Every one of her senses was betraying her now.

She heaved herself from the tub and rolled onto her back, waterlogged on the cold bathroom floor. Above her, the domed skylight had darkened with evening, rain pattering against it with fat, heavy drops.

Keeping her eyes closed, she counted her breaths and tried to find a moment of peace within the chaos.

She didn’t last long in the silence before cracking one eye open.

Ravenka’s bleached white skull smiled down upon her within the oculus. Ksenia’s mouth fell open, but she emitted no sound.

The skull was pressed against the glass from within, close enough that Ksenia could see every fissure, the empty sockets, the gaping jaw.

The skull moved then, rivulets of rain streaming down the bleached white bone. Then its teeth clicked shut with an audible snap that echoed throughout the bathroom before bone-on-bone ground out soundless words.

By Blood and Bone, We are Bound. Vornaya’s voice cackled in her ear, close as a lover’s whisper.

Ksenia’s scream clawed itself out of her throat.

Her mind was unraveling, one thread at a time. She had delayed this long enough—she had to resolve this tonight before she became a dysfunctional mess.

19

The walls of Beranek manor had begun to close in on her like a tomb. Ksenia escaped into the crisp night with her hair still wet against her neck, but even the open air couldn’t quiet the whispers that followed her through Rothaven’s empty streets.

By the time she reached the entrance to the Vein, she was arguing with voices only she could hear. The underground tunnels stretched, and she drifted forward aimlessly, struggling to keep her attention on the path before her.

Eyes seemed to blink at her from rock crevices and cave mouths, always in her periphery. Jagged stone walls bore faces that seemed to turn and watch her pass, but when she faced them, they appeared ordinary. Just a trick of the light, she told herself.

She lurched deeper into the dark maw, her heart pounding in her temples. Ahead of her, the walls pulsed in, like they were breathing. Like they were swallowing.

She stumbled, catching herself against the stone.

The jagged shale sliced through her leather gloves, cutting into her palm—a solid, unmoving barrier. The pain was sharp before settling into a warm buzz.

“Listen to me—we’ve done enough for the Bound Eye.”

She whipped around, searching for—her voice…?

She stumbled into the street, the crowd flowing past her, oblivious.

“Dad always said we’re stronger together.” The barest whisper of Danika’s voice flooded her ear.

The whisper doubled back around her. She stared vacantly in front of her while strangers grimaced and gave her a wider berth.

It was a product of her hallucinations; Danika was alive and well in Hearth.